


If, Thirteen

by akachankami



Series: If... [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Catching Fire, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akachankami/pseuds/akachankami
Summary: "If you could live elsewhere, would you?"Conversation in the light of a morning after. Catching Fire





	If, Thirteen

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Sink or swim but written six months before that and posted first on ffnet in 2014

"If you could live elsewhere, would you?"

The question finds me unprepared so I stare into my morning coffee a little longer. "Elsewhere? Like... Twelve?"

The morning light warms his feature as he sits in bed with his own breakfast in his lap, lazily sipping from his cup. His hair is tangled and falling on his eyes and I wonder what would he do if I reached out and brushed them back. Even if we shared a bed it still seems too intimate for us. Too carefree perhaps. Especially now that Katniss and Peeta are due back in the arena.

"Yeah... Like Twelve," he confirms after thinking about it.

"I don't know. I think I'd go nuts after awhile of doing nothing," I say with a mirth in my voice I don't feel.

He does seem to ponder it seriously though. "Yeah..."

"And the night is so dark. You can see stars."

"It's not a bad thing!" he retorts.

I try to dissolve the tension with a smile because his furrowed brow and intense gaze are making me feel unease by the second: "Isn't it boring to see the same sky every night?"

"Isn't it boring to see the same people at every party, hear the same gossips... Everyday?"

I sigh shaking my head lightly. I don't want to have this conversation. I don't want him to turn serious, I want to go back to the feel of waking up next to him, the rise and fall of his chest beneath my fingertips and the small joy to know him still there filling my lungs. "You don't like people."

"I don't like  _Capitol_  people."

It doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would to hear it out loud. "I'm Capitol."

He shrugs. "I don't like Capitol people  _together_."

This, somehow, hurts. I still held a sparkle of hope he would decide to stay instead of going back to Twelve year after year. If not for me, for the free amount of alcohol he could get here. I never questioned my feelings, they just were, as selfish as they could be.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's stupid."

"Tell me," he insists.

I hesitate. "For a moment I thought you'd ask me to come to Twelve. Live with you..."

He looks at me once again lingering on thoughts I'm not privy to. He does that often lately, it doesn't make me feel any safer and I desperately need to, even now, even after we spent the night together I feel him slipping away. "We'd be at each other's throat every two hours," he finally rasps.

I smile, because I sense it's what he wants me to do, smile my fake Capitol smile and play pretends. "Yeah... stupid."

I shift the tray with the coffee cup and the rest of my untouched breakfast on the bedside table and fiddle with the covers.

"I wouldn't mind making up every couple of hours," he snickers with playful eyes again and I fall in love once more.


End file.
